


Strange Days

by youre_a_cock_sherlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Hippies, Idk tbh... just wanted some hippie John and Sherlock, Jim Morrison/The Doors inspired, John and Sherlock are kinda dicks but its fine, Lots of Swearing TBH, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Verrrrry AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youre_a_cock_sherlock/pseuds/youre_a_cock_sherlock
Summary: "Hear me talk of sin and you know this is it..."John and Sherlock. Sex. Drugs. The Doors. What could be better?





	Strange Days

**September, 1970.**

 

“This is a fucking joke! You don’t seriously think I like cock, do you?” John Watson huffed and puffed as he, quite frankly, knew he liked cock. He loved cock. And supposedly, everyone else knew it too, including his best friend, Greg Lestrade. Greg, that fucking _wanker_! Was this his punishment for fucking his girlfriend? That was literally three years ago! He needed to get over it, but he apparently hadn’t.

“Awh, c’mon mate! It’s your birthday. You haven’t gotten laid in a bit, obviously, and this place seems right up your alley!” Greg smiled deviously, pushing John out of his car and handing him a tenner. “Enjoy yourself buddy, I’ll see you tomorrow. Hopefully you’re not too sore by then. And remember, the word to get in is Basket!” And on that delightful note, he screeched away, leaving his friend stranded in some strange and unknown land.

John ran his hand through his long and dirty blonde hair, scoffing to himself. _Well… he’s right. I might as well enjoy myself. But how dare he assume I’m a bottom?_ Making his way to the front step, the sign blinking weakly that simply said “Bang Bang”, John realized he didn’t even know what this place was. A gay bar? Gay strip show? Gay cult?? Multiple possibilities running through his mind were interrupted when the tiny little black slit in the middle of the giant wooden door opened, bulging eyes staring down at him.

“What’s the word?” The mysterious man growled, sounding halfway like a fucking Scottish werewolf. “Ehm… Baskets?” John squeaked, suddenly very frightened. Silence… Silence… John was about to leave when the door violently swung open, and the tenner was snatched from his hand. “Get in, tiny little man.” The werewolf monster sneered at him, beard covering everything but his eyeballs. He was pushed inside before any reaction could be mustered up.

When John finally looked around, he suppressed a gasp. As far as the eye could see, beautiful men, with their dicks and balls and asses, were all fucking, getting fucked and sucked and everything in between. Moans filled the air, with curses and swears and “Harder Daddy!”. How glorious.

“Hello honey, do you happen to be John Watson?” Someone purred in his ear. He turned around and saw a beautiful woman.

Wait.

No, not a woman… a beautiful man, with makeup and heels and everything. They were called Queens, John could recall. Fucking gorgeous, if he was being honest. He grimaced, nodding quickly.

“It’s my birthday, and my friend made the arrangements, and I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I-” The queen laughed and put a manicured nail to his lips. “Shhh, honey, it’s alright. Follow me.” She grabbed John’s hand and led him down a path to a room on the left side. CONSULTING DETECTIVE was splattered on the door, and John raised an eyebrow. “He’s one of our favourites here. A quiet man, and expensive, but can read you like a book… and then some. I hope you have a good time, and I’ll buy you a drink afterwards. The names Tracie.” She winked, kissing John on the cheek and sauntering away.

“What do you mean, can read you li-, never mind!” He took a couple of breaths, and knocked on the door. Who the hell was this guy? “Come in,” A deep voice bellowed from within the room. John opened the door, closing it gently behind him. The room was dim, but he could see a figure with curly hair sitting in the chair in front of him.

“Hi, I’m J-” “John Watson, I know. Lestrade told me about you.” Making his way toward the figure, John smiled. “Good things, I hope.”

“Shut up and sit down in that chair.” The voice replied. John frowned, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Excuse me?” The man finally got up and faced John. “I said, shut up and sit the fuck down.”

In that moment, John would’ve done anything for that man. His porcelain skin appeared to be marble, blue (green? grey?) eyes that struck an ice pick through his heart, dark hair that was pulled back in a loose ponytail, long curls framing his face. This creature was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and it took John everything not to get on his knees and suck the soul out of him. He was so hard already, what the fuck? “Yes sir,” he complied, and sat in the seat.

“Good. What a compliant little soldier. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it? Mmm, it’s not clear to me whether you’re going into the military because you truly want to, or because you want to become a doctor, and the military is the only way you could afford it. Never mind that, it’s obvious. You’re twenty years old, star athlete of your secondary school Rugby team, lost your virginity at the age of fifteen with a girl named… Mary? But you secretly didn’t enjoy it, because you were fantasizing about your teammate Michael. You come from an abusive household, your father died about four years ago from drunk driving, and your mother is currently institutionalized in-”

“I’m sorry, how the fuck did you know that?” John croaked. “I never told Lestrade about Mary, and my parents, and…”

“Like Tracie told you, I can read people like a book. And right now, I want to read everything about you. Here, take this.” The man gets up, and grabs John a rolled up blunt, handing it to him. “I grew the marijuana and rolled them myself, this shit should be at least five times stronger than anything you’ve tried.” He smiled for the first time, and John fell in love as he flickered on the flame and put it to the blunt.

Inhaling the smoke, John instantly felt lighter, happier. “This is so good… w-who are you?” He asked suddenly. The man had lit his own, exhaling the smoke right into John’s face. “Sherlock Holmes.” “Sherlock… what an incredibly sexy name. Hey, do you have any Doors shit you can play?” John slurred a bit, not giving himself a break with the marijuana. The shit was good, man. Sherlock chuckled, nodding.

Next thing John knew, he was hearing those goddamn lyrics as this gorgeous consulting detective pushed him onto this couch that literally appeared out of nowhere;

 

_“Strange Days have found us…_

_Strange Days have tracked us down…”_

 

Sherlock was pulling down John’s pants and trousers, blunt still in his mouth, eyes boring into his soul.

“Let me suck your dick, John. Let me do this for you. ” He nodded vigorously, or he at least thought he did. All he knew is that when Sherlock engulfed him with this wet heat, John felt himself transcend into something else, he didn’t know what the fuck it was.

 

_“They’re goin’ to destroy…_

_Our casual joys..”_

 

“Oh God, Sherlock, yea. Yea, right there, ungh-” John grunted, grabbing a hold of Sherlock’s thick hair, the smoke from his blunt clouding his mind.

His cock was being deepthroated and he was high and ohmyfuckinggodIdontknowwhereIam, but he hadn’t felt this good in a while. Sherlock’s head kept bobbing up and down, fast and then slow, meticulously and then messy. If he kept doing that, making those slurping noises and gags, John wasn’t going to last much longer.

 

_“We shall go on playing or find a new town… YEAH!”_

 

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He groaned, looking into this vicious eyes. Sherlock nodded and grinned, leaving John’s cock with a POP that was entirely too indecent. John grabbed Sherlock by the collar and kissed him aggressively, tearing off his clothes with no regard for how expensive they probably were.

“You want me to fuck you, nasty little boy? Is that what you want?” John hissed, nipping at Sherlock’s neck and relishing in his moans.

“Yes, John, please! Please put your massive cock in me!” He replied, hanging onto John with no air in his lungs. He had been pushed onto the very couch where John was, plump and bare ass waiting to be fucking ripped apart. John grinned, slapping it, making it more and more red.

“You want my cock in you, Sherlock? Tell me that’s what you want!” Sherlock cried out, “Yes, yes, yes. Please John!” two more times before a finger, two fingers, three fucking fingers entered him and began to pump. He began to thrust back, grunting, his red cock leaking with precome. “J-John.. Please!”

 

“ _The hostess is grinning… '_

_Her guests sleep from sinning…”_

 

“Okay Sherlock, I’m going to fuck you now.” And with that warning, John removed his fingers, shoved himself inside of Sherlock, and slowly started to grind. “Oh my God, Sherlock, oh you feel so good, fuck!”

“Yes John, please fuck me faster… please.” The whimpering started to increase once the thrusts became deeper and quicker. Sherlock’s asshole felt like absolute Heaven, and he wanted it all. John reached around and grabbed Sherlock’s cock, stroking him quickly. A couple more thrusts and John had found Sherlock’s wonderful prostate.

“DADDY!” His knees started to buckle, as he screamed into the pillow. Once John heard that, he knew he was coming soon. “C’mon Sherlock, you gonna come for me? C’mon babe, yea, c’mon!”

_Thrust. Thrust. Slap, slap, slap, moan. Fuck. Shit. You’re so tight, you fuck so good. Your cock, oh my God, fuck._

“I’m coming, John, I-I’m-AUGH” Sherlock shuddered, streams of white spurting out of him as his asshole tightened around John’s cock. “Oh my God, Sherlock, you’re gorgeous, wow, absolutely gorgeous!” John cried out, fingernails digging into his hips. Sherlock smiled encouragingly, looking back at his lover. “Come for me, Daddy, c’mon, come inside me!”

John screamed, his orgasm rippling through him as he kept mercilessly fucking, riding it out. “Yes yes yes yes Sherlock, oh my God, yes, you are amazing, God you are amazing…” The smoke endlessly rolled around John’s sight, mind, and soul after that night, as he never saw Sherlock again.

 

_“Strange days have found us…_

_And through their strange hours, we linger alone..._

_Bodies confused…._

_Memories misused…_

_As we run from the day, to a strange night of stone…_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I haven't written anything in a while, so I hope you enjoyed it. Just some quick little hippie smut! Let me know what you think in the comments below, and possibly a Kudos or two?


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